


Beware the Ire of the Proletariat Sprite

by flammablehat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Community: kinkme_merlin, Community: summerpornathon, Humor, M/M, Rhyming, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:59:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/pseuds/flammablehat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur just doesn't understand why the magical community at large is so invested in his love life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beware the Ire of the Proletariat Sprite

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Summerpornathon 2011, challenge 5, as a fill for this kinkme_merlin prompt: 
> 
> Arthur/Merlin, canon  
> Arthur is hit with a spell that won't lift until he orgasms. The problem is, Merlin is the one who has to give it to him. Merlin reluctantly agrees, but another problems crops up; Arthur is the only one allowed to ejaculate, but Merlin keeps beating him (HAH) to it. Lots of awkward conversations and ideas to keep Merlin from coming.

As the shining prince of a magical land, it was not surprising that Arthur Pendragon attracted the attention of the fae. His flaxen hair and sparkling eyes were as gold and jewels in their view, his noble bearing a signet over which they’d gladly bow their heads.

Upon the whole, they felt largely enamored of Camelot’s first born son.

All save one small sprite, name of Gibbet, who found the Prince rather lacking.

“His manner is boorish, his attitudes trite. I tend to care more for his manservant’s plight,” Gibbet would grumble, tiny arms crossed.

Bear in mind, dear reader, this populist perspective made him something of a radical thinker. For a sprite.

Which was how it came to pass that Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot, found himself cursed one dark, stormy night.

~+++~

Arthur woke to the warning rattle of cutlery sliding over a platter.

“Whoa,” he heard Merlin breathe, hushed, for once righting Arthur’s breakfast in time to save everything from spilling to the floor. Arthur smiled.

“Morning, Merlin,” he groaned, stretching.

“Good morning, sire,” Merlin replied after a brief, shocked pause. “You’re awake.”

“I am,” Arthur agreed, sitting up against his pillows. “And _you_ are endearing when you try to be quiet in spite of yourself,” he added.

Merlin stared. Flabbergasted, Arthur repeated the exchange in his mind.

“I’ll get Gaius?” Merlin pointed at the door.

“Good initiative,” Arthur began, immediately correcting himself, “Yes, go— _quickly_!”

~+++~

Hidden in a low, dark corner, Gibbet rolled and giggled. “The only help for him now, with his affection laid bare, lies in the hands of the man for whom he pretends not to care! And with every fond thought, like a spark breeds a fire, his tongue won’t be governed lest he quench his desire!”

Thus saying, Gibbet took his leave in a puff of blue smoke, pausing only to bend an old physician’s ear.

~+++~

“Sprites are mischievous creatures, your highness,” Gaius said, apologetic. “I’m afraid the effects, though mild, won’t be resolved until the enchantment’s terms are, ah. Met.”

Arthur digested this, full of horror. He looked up to gauge Merlin’s reaction and found his manservant leaning against the door, arms crossed, bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth in a poor effort to gag the laughter clearly dancing in his eyes.

His _bright, lash-heavy doe-eyes_ , Arthur’s mind helpfully supplied.

‘Mild effects’ his _arse_.

~+++~

“I want to help,” Merlin said the following evening, somewhat more solemn after weathering an hour of Uther’s suspicious glare in council.

Arthur stopped at his door, hands to hips, head tilted heavenward, the whole script of his body telling an exhausted, annoyed story. “Your kindness is humbling, but you’re under no obligation to fix this,” he said without turning around.

“You can’t go all formal on me after you’ve told half the court you see Camelot’s valleys in the curve of my spine, or its—its _lakes_ in my eyes.”

“The sky,” Arthur corrected, stiff. “I see Camelot’s sky in your eyes.”

“Arthur,” Merlin huffed, turning his prince against the door so they were face to face when he said, “I have sucked cock for less flattery than that—trust me, you’re no hardship.”

~+++~

“Oh,” Arthur hissed, sharp. He pulled up onto his elbows, stomach tightening under Merlin’s hand, working his prick into and out of the sleek pink moue of Merlin’s mouth with tight circles of his hips. “So lovely like this, I want, _Merlin_ —want to hold you down, can I? Ah,” he gasped, tensing when Merlin groaned miserably around him, humping into the bed between Arthur’s legs.

“Sorry,” Merlin gulped wetly, pulling away.

“Don’t apologize, and don’t stop,” Arthur groaned, tugging Merlin up the bed and climbing over his face.

~+++~

“This isn’t working,” Merlin groaned, fist slapping slick and fast over his cock, thick white threads of come leaking over his knuckles. Arthur wasn’t even halfway seated inside him yet, breathing open-mouthed against the back of his long, pale neck, eyes squeezed shut at the feel of sinking in, in, _oh_ , in—

~+++~

“I don’t care, I don’t care, _fuck_ , I—oh, I think I lo—”

“Ah!” Merlin cried, rutting furiously into their twined fingers—

~+++~

Though the curse endured longer than Gibbet expected, he wouldn’t deny he was pleased. He’d spelled the young prince in the hope he’d convince a proud man to spend time on his knees.

As it was, he discovered there was more to these lovers than the men he had cursed in the past—

Because the spell finally broke when the wizard admitted _“I love you, too,”_ at last.


End file.
